


The Listener's Plight

by Constantsnow



Series: Dovah Journals [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Bosmer/Nord Halfbreed, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, M/M, Milos An-Ra makes appearances, Night Mother, Not as Dark as Dark Brotherhood would imply, Teldryn Sero is a Good Steward, expect murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2018-10-03 10:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10242257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Constantsnow/pseuds/Constantsnow
Summary: Elisdriel is destined for this path, but that does not mean he was ready for it.





	1. Chapter 1

  
Elisdriel walked down the stairs of the large manor the strange Argonian, Milos An-Ra, had left him in. It had been weeks, since the day in Helgen, and the young man was practically crawling out of his skin. He needed to do something, and his first irrational thought, was to travel to Windhelm and murder his uncle, but he knew that the idea would never work and he would end up dead instead. His hands shook with the rage that Ulfric Stormcloak was once again freed to wreck havoc across Skyrim while his mother was rotting on the plains outside of Rorikstead.

With a growl, Elis kicked over a stack for books hands fisted. He wanted to scream.

“Well, I see Milos did not lie when he said you were an angry child.” Elis startled and looked up, finding Milos’ steward, Teldryn Sero was coming out of the greenhouse, dirt smudge on his dark grey skin.

“ ‘m sorry,” Elis blushed with embarrassment. “I forgot that you were here.”

“It’s of no concern.” The Dunmer replied with a wave of his hand kneeling down to pick up the books the young man had kicked over.

“Y-you don’t have to do that.” Elis hurried to pick them up himself and stacked them back in their column near the bottom of the stairs. Teldryn chuckled as he stood up, watching the halfling. When Elisdriel was finished, he huffed and sat back on the last stair and sighed heavily.

“Milos told me about what happened to you.” Elis looked up at the spell-sword. “It is always hard to loose someone so dear at a such a young age.” Teldryn said sympathetically. “Your mother was the only family you’ve ever known, yes?”

“Yes, she… raised me all on her own, in Rorikstead.” Elisdriel answered and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Come, let’s sit by the fire, and you can tell me about her.” Teldryn waved his hand towards the hearth at the center of the main hall, and the two chairs that sat on a rug before it.

“Okay.” Elisdriel said quietly and followed the older man over. The Dunmer grabbed two bottles of ale from a chest beneath the stairs and handed Elis one.

“So, what was your mother’s name?” The Dark Elf asked as he sank in to the chair on the left and pulled the cork from his bottle.

“Her name was Nora,” Elis said, his voice cracking slightly as he stared in to the fire. “And she was so kind.”

{+++++}

Elis was snoring softly, as Teldryn dropped him carefully on to the small bed, and the Dark Elf chuckled at the younger male. He stood over the younger man for a little while, thinking about what he should do with the mourning creature. Milos had instructed him to care for the boy, but had refused to tell him what to do, or even why he cared. As long as Teldryn had known the Argonian, Milos had not shown any sort of emotions towards another living soul, and that included himself, despite the years that they’d traveled on and off.

“What am I to do with you?” Teldryn shook his head and exited the room, pausing just briefly, to blow out the candles on the dresser.

As the dunmer made his way back down the stairs, he thought back on what Milos had told him of Elisdriel, heir to the throne of Windhelm, as Ulfric had no children, but that the Stormcloak would rather see the boy dead then in his throne as he was half Bosmer, and thus a disgrace to the Nord purest. Milos also knew that the Stormcloaks had just killed the boy’s mother, Nora as she had deserted her post as an officer. That Elisdriel had witnessed his mother’s beheading, and had broken free of his ropes and tried to fight Ulfric, but the older man had easily defeated the boy, and was intent on taking him to Windhelm to be imprisoned until his death when the Stormcloaks had been ambushed by the Legion and taken to Helgen.

How Milos knew what he did, Teldryn would never know or even want to, because the Dunmer knew it had something to do with the strange, unsettling aura that followed the Argonian, of the voice that Milos often whispered with. Teldryn shook his head and picked up the bottles of ale that they’d drunk while Elis had told him of his life growing up in Rorikstead, of his mother’s gentleness and how she’d fallen in love with a Wood Elf hunter who often stopped in the Stormcloak camp to sell fresh meats and pelts to them.

Teldryn pushed open one of the kitchen doors and deposited the empty bottles in to a basket so they could be refilled when Milos’ next batch of ale was ready. As the Dunmer turned, he noticed a book set on the edge of the table and he went to it. The tanned cover was unassuming, but as he opened it, he realized the pages were bloodstained, and the words Sweet Mother, caught his attention, along with a small scrap of parchment was there as well. Teldryn frowned heavily, he knew that Milos collected books, and had several of a dark nature, but most of those he kept in the cellar, in locked chests. Teldryn opened the scrap of parchment, and nearly dropped the book at what was written in smeared charcoal.

_Elisdriel is the Listener, child of Sithis. Set him on the path, Teldryn._

Teldryn exhaled sharply, and sank heavily in the chair next to him. How could Milos possibly ask this of him, how could he even know? The mer huffed and slumped in his seat, flipped the parchment over and on the back was a name: Aventus Arentino, Windhelm. Teldryn’s brow furrowed and he wanted nothing more than to burn this note and never speak of it, but at the same time, he knew Milos never did anything without a reason. Teldryn looked upward and grimaced, debating on if he was actually going to send Elis on a path towards the Dark Brotherhood.

He knew that Milos would do it when he returned to the manor, whenever that would be, and it would be a harshness that the sweet boy did not deserve.

“Divines help me.” Teldryn said, and closed the note back on the book, which he took up with him and locked in the chest at the foot of the master’s bed before removing his armor for night clothes. He would think on it for the next few days, before deciding on if he’d obey his employer’s orders.

  
{+++++}

  
Elisdriel moved on silent feet through the woods, a simple long bow held in his hand, and a quiver of iron arrows over his back. Teldryn had given them both to him with insistence that he get out of the house for a few hours. Elis was glad to have a familiar weapon in his hands once more, even if it wasn’t the bow he’d once owned, as it’d been stolen by one of the Stormcloaks that had abducted him and his mother in Rorikstead. He missed the heavy nordic weapon’s weight in his hand, but this long bow would do, for now.

Elis followed the trail of a deer herd through the foggy woods. The lands were different than he was used to hunting in, but the new challenge was nice. The halfling paused, tilting his head slightly and closing his eyes to listen to the sounds around him. Near by he could hear that the herd had finally stopped moving. He headed that way, drawing an arrow from his quiver and nocking it, though he kept the bow string loose between his fingers.

When he finally saw his prey, Elis knelt, partially hidden behind a fallen tree. He watched the deer graze for several minutes before picking his target, a buck most likely two or three years old going by the size of him. His antlers were uneven, but healthy, the left had four points while the right had six. With a nod to himself, Elis drew his bow and aimed, then fired after exhaling a deep breath. The arrow flew straight and true, and hit the buck in the neck, felling it instantly. The rest of the herd spooked and ran off in to the woods. Elis stood up, and put the long bow on his back then headed for his catch. The animal still twitched as Elis knelt down, but the large pool of blood showed that it was indeed dead. The young man frowned and pulled the arrow out, but found the tip had broken off in the creature’s neck.

“Thank you,” He whispered to the deer, and pet it’s head.

The walk back to the manor was twice as long as the trip away with the weight of the buck on his back.

“Well I’ll be,” Teldryn was chopping wood, and looked up when he heard Elis coming out of the trees. “You actually are a good hunter!” He chuckled. “Now the real test, can you actually clean it without ruining the pelt.” He teased, setting his axe down.

“Better than you I’d bet.” Elis replied setting the deer on to the ground with a groan.

“I have no doubt of that.” The Dunmer came over to watch as the young man unsheathed the iron dagger on his belt. “Wait, wait don’t use that dull old thing.” He removed his own elven dagger and handed over to Elis.

“Are you sure?” Elis asked looking up at the spell-sword.

“It’s had blood on it before,” Teldryn said with a wave of his hand. “Just clean it when you’re done. It’s probably older than you are.”

“I’m not that young!” Elis said with a huff as he began to gut the deer.

“When you live as long as elves do, you’re young.” Teldryn said.

“How old are you?” Elis asked, not taking his attention from his work.

“I’ll be eighty this winter.” The dunmer answered sitting on a near by stump.

“Wow, it’s hard to believe how long elves live sometimes.” The teenager said honestly.

“Yes, well, considering that you’re half Wood Elf, you may have inherited the longevity.” Teldryn replied watching his young companion as he removed the deer’s entrails, and wrinkled his nose at the scent. “It is hard to know for sure though, there aren’t many like you.”

“Yeah… I know.” Elis’ shoulders sank briefly.

“There’s nothing wrong with what you are, Elisdriel,” Teldryn said seriously. “Never think anything else.”

“Me being this, is why my mother was murdered.” Elis replied darkly.

“No, you cannot believe that. Your mother would not wanting you to blame yourself for her death. The only blame falls on Ulfric, on his prejudices.” Teldryn said and the teen looked up at him once more.

“Thank you,” The halfling said with a small smile. “I needed to hear that.”

“You’re very welcome.” Teldryn said, and the two fell in to silence, the Dunmer watching his young charge finish cleaning, then skinning the deer.

  
{++++}

 

Teldryn decided, a week later, to tell Elis about the note, although he withheld the information about Elis being the Listener, as he believed that the title would influence the boy’s decision.

“So, he wants me to what, go to this person and fulfill a contract? Murder someone?” Elisdriel asked, clearly angered by the news. “Why would Milos do that?”

“I do not know. Milos is a… complicated creature, knows things no one should know.” Teldryn said with a frown. “Perhaps he thinks that doing this will… help you in some way.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone!” Elis slammed a fist against the table between them.

“You wish to kill Ulfric Stormcloak.” Teldryn reminded him calmly. “And killing him will be no different than killing another. You must under stand that.”

“It is different! Ulfric killed my mother, he deserves to die!” Elis shouted.

“Elis, trust me.” Teldryn said with a sigh. “Having the blood of another person on your hands is a turning point in your life, and will always stain you. You have to understand that, learn to live with it. And sure, while you may not believe that now, later, you will. Ulfric is a human being, sure a monster in your eyes, but he is also your Uncle, the only famil-“

“He is nothing but a murderer, a monster!” Elis growled.

“And he will kill you in the blink of an eye, if you go after him, so full of rage.” Teldryn said, and it was then he understood, despite being the Listener, Elis was no killer, and would falter in battle against another human, even Ulfric, and Milos knew it, twisted as it was, the Dark Brotherhood would train Elis to kill without emotions. “You should do this, talk to this Aventus, then decide to preform the contract or not.”

“Fine.” Elis spat. “I’ll leave in the morning.” Teldryn sighed as the boy stormed up the stairs. If there was a door to his room, he would’ve surely slammed it shut.

“Divines, I pray you know what you’re doing Milos.” The Dunmer chugged the rest of his ale, then opened another bottle.

  
{+++++}

  
Elis shivered in the cold wind as he stepped through the gates in to the city of Windhelm. Even though it was the middle of the day, the city seemed dark and gloomy. A woman in rags warmed herself in front of the large fire pot, while a group of Nords hassled a Dunmer woman while guards in Stormcloak armor watched with little interest. The teen had never been in a city before, his mother had always reframed from going to one in fear that someone would recognize her, and Elis had never particularly felt the desire to go in to one as he so loved the wilds of plains and woods; his Bosmer blood strong in that sense.

It was more than a little overwhelming in it’s sights and scents, the sounds already giving him a headache as he could hear yelling of the vendors in the market, and a smith’s hammer against metal. He shook himself and turned right, heading under a large stone archway and up a set of stairs. He wondered how Milos knew of this Aventus person, of where he lived.

“I’m going to go knock on the door!” A boy shouted and Elis froze, ducking behind a pillar, pulling his hood further over his head.

“You’ll do no such thing!” A woman cried in reply, and Elis ducked out from behind the stone to see a young Nord boy standing next to the house that he was to go to, with a Dunmer woman holding his wrist tightly.

“So it is true!” The boy said with a gasp. “Arentino is preforming the Black Sacrament. That’s all any one is talking about!”

“You must stay away from that boy!” The Dunmer said sternly. “Your mother would be beside herself if you went anywhere near that child.” The woman said and began dragging the boy away as he protested and shouted.

Elis frowned and looked over at the door he was supposed to go in to. Could a child really be preforming a dark ritual? Elis shivered again, though this time he wasn’t sure it was because of the cold and leaned back against the stone pilar and sighed. Milos said that this was something that Elisdriel had to do, for whatever reason. Elis took a deep breath and moved, he could hear a guard coming around the corner, and didn’t want to be seen. He slipped in to the house, slowly closing the door behind him. He leaned back against the wood.

Inside the house it was nearly pitch black, the air smelt stale, and was just as cold as the air outside. The Bosmer-Nord could also smell blood and decay and hear the faint voice of a boy, chanting. Curiosity made Elisdriel walk up the stairs, where he could see the faint glow from candles. A boy was kneeling in a room just off the main living area, with a circle of half burnt candles surrounding a skeleton. Elis froze watching the boy for several minutes.

“Oh come on! I know I’ve done this right, please, please.” Aventus practically sobbed dropping the iron dagger he held, and Elis found his feet moving before he consciously realized. He touched the boy’s shoulder, who gasped, falling on to his ass as he spun around. “I-It worked! You actually ca-came!”

Elis blinked, but nodded.

“Y-you’re with the Dark Brotherhood! By the Gods it worked!” Aventus scrambled on to his feet. “You’ll take my contract, really?”

“Yes, I will, who is it?” Elis found himself saying.

“The old lady who runs the orphanage in Riften, Grelod the Kind! I was sent there after my mother died. Grelod is so horrible, so-…so I ran away and came back here.” Aventus said seriously. “If you kill her I’ll pay, I swear. Everything I have left, I swear.”

Elis gave a nod, and the Nord boy smiled up at him.

  
{+++++}

  
Honorhall Orphanage in Riften was a miserable place, as Elisdriel sneaked between the beds where the children slept, he noticed that there were no toys anywhere to be seen, their blankets were worn, and dirty, and the hearth was cold. Reversely, the room where the matriarch, Grelod slept, had fire within the small fire place, and her blankets were well kept. A bottle of wine sat on the dresser next to her bed, along with a plate with a half eaten loaf of bread and cheese sat, along with a thin book called ‘The Pig Children’. He found himself putting the book in to the small satchel he wore across his back: ‘Proof,’ he’d told himself. ‘A memento.’

Elis removed the elven dagger Teldryn had given him from it’s sheath as he moved around the side of the woman’s bed. His heart was racing as he stood over her, his hands shook, and it took everything he had to keep from breathing harshly, his eyes wide in the dark. Sweat beaded across his face.

Finally, Elisdriel forced himself to move, he brought the dagger down, in a movement he was familiar with, from his times hunting, he moved the blade across the old woman’s neck. She woke, but was unable to scream as her blood spurted from the long gash across her neck, Elis gasped as it hit his face, and covered his hands. The woman gurgled, her eyes staring up at him and Elis shook, stumbled back in to the wall and nearly dropped his dagger. He abandoned stealth then, and ran from the orphanage, waking children as he slammed the door behind him. He ran past a guard who shouted in alarm, nearly falling over as Elis had bumped against him.

The teenager ran though the city and out the gates. He ran, and ran and ran until he tripped over a tree root and rolled across the ground, and panted against the dirt. Then he found himself crying. Elis curled up, dropping the dagger that had still been clutched in his hand, covered his head and wailed.

He’d actually done it… killed an old woman…

“Gods… oh Gods what’ve I done.” Elis laid on the forest floor, and sobbed for what felt like hours.

  
{+++++}

  
Aventus practically danced around the house when Elis returned, several days later, laughing and cheering in joy at the news that Grelod the Kind, was dead. Elis just stood, silent and numb, staring at the nightshade flower that was placed next to the skull.

“S-stay right here I’ll be right back with your payment!” Aventus rushed off, leaving Elisdriel alone with the skeleton, who found himself bending down to pick up the flower, he spun it by the stem, it’s petals perfectly shaped, and the scent of it was still strong. It enchanted Elis and he found himself wishing to keep the flower.

“Here, this is for you.”

Elis turned to look down at the Nord boy, who held up a large silver plate.

“It should fetch a decent amount at the market.” The boy insisted. Elis took it, without a thought, pulling his bag from his back and slipped it inside. Then he froze, upon seeing the book there ‘The Pig Children’, he stared at it for several seconds, then pulled it out and opened it, and set the flower inside. “What are you doing with that?” The boy asked.

“A memento.” Elisdriel said, and looked at the boy, who stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, okay then.” Aventus said. “Thank you. I hope to see you again one day. Maybe I’ll join the Dark Brotherhood.”

Elis frowned briefly, but said nothing. He stared down at the smiling boy for a moment then left without another word. He lifted his hood as he left the house, the sun was shining brightly, but there was still a harsh chill in the air, and he made his way over to the market place, and went to the first stall where a High elf woman was working. He took out the silver plate and held it out for her.

“I’d like to sell this.” He explained as she turned it to and fro, examining it.

She hummed. “I’ll give you a hundred gold for it, nothing more.”

“That’s fine.” Elis had no desire to haggle. The High Elf raised an eyebrow then set the plate to the side and began to count out the coins which she put in to a small cloth sack and tossed at him.

“Thank you for your business.” She said haughtily, but Elis ignored her, stuffed the coins in to his satchel and left.

He crossed the bridge to leave the city and came up to the carriage.

“Hello sir, where would you like to go?” The driver asked.

“Morthal, please.” Elis answered.

“Of course sir. Hop right in, and we’ll be off.” The driver said, gesturing over his shoulder. Elis did so without a word, slumping in the bench with a heavy sigh as the carriage driver clicked his tongue at the horse and gave the reigns a light snap to get the animal moving. “You seem exhausted,” Elis gave a soft hum in agreement and let his eyes fall closed. “It’ll be a day and a half drive from here, we’ll be making camp at dusk, feel free to sleep here in the carriage.”

“Yeah, I’ll… do that.” Elis said, but sleep never came.

{++++}

  
Teldryn was surprised to see Elisdriel coming over the hill from the direction of Morthal, nearly two weeks after he’d set out for Windhelm.

“Welcome back,” Teldryn said, offering a smile, but Elis did not greet him back, but instead removed the elven dagger from his belt and held it out. The Dunmer raised an eyebrow, but took the weapon back. Elis had shadows around his eyes, and looked like he’d forgone food for several days. “Ah, I see…” The older male sighed and returned the dagger to his own belt.

Elis’s lip trembled for a moment, and he ducked his head, eyes squeezing shut. “She deserved it… but I still… am I…”

“Hush now, Elisdriel.” Teldryn said softly. “Let’s get you inside, you need to rest.” He took the man by his shoulders and lead him in to the house, Elis undressed when prompted, and put on the night clothes, simple cotton pants and shirt stiffly, then laid on the bed. “You will feel better after you sleep.” The Dunmer said, sitting down on the bed next to the one Elis laid in, the teen’s satchel and clothes piled next to him.

“I don’t want to feel better.” Elis murmured, glancing over, the tears in his eyes made the blue color of them practically glow.

“You must.” Teldryn gently pushed. “We have your armor to finish in the morning.”

“Armor?” Elis asked.

“Yes, Milos sent a letter and a sum of gold for the materials, as well as a new bow for you. He told me to give them to you upon your return from Windhelm.” Teldryn explained, then pointed to the weapon rack on the wall. There was an ebony bow, gleaming in the candle light with a black leather quivered filled with an assortment of arrows.

“He’s… proud of what I did… isn’t he?” Elisdriel’s brow furrowed.

“I will never claim to know what Milos An-Ra is thinking or feeling.” Teldryn said seriously and Elis looked up at him.

“What do you think of me?” The teen asked, eyes guarded.

“That you did something you needed to,” The Dunmer answered honestly. “And I could never think less of you for killing, as I have killed as well, with the same dagger.” Teldryn stood then, taking the satchel and the dirty clothes with him. “Now rest, we can speak more in the morning.”

Elis nodded and rolled on to his side with his back facing the Dark Elf. Teldryn nodded to himself, blew out the candles and made his way down the stairs. He emptied the boy’s satchel, and furrowed his brow at the book he found inside. He flipped through the pages, and stopped when he saw the nightshade flower pressed between the pages.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Elisdriel refused to discuss what had occurred on his journey to Riften, despite Teldyrn expressing on multiple occasions that it was nothing the boy need feel shamed by.

It was an act he was destined for, if Milos An-Ra was to believed, (and Teldyrn Sero believes).

Days have passed in a tense silence when the boy is awake and in the manor, when he is outside he wanders the property like a draugr, pale and unsettling to witness. He hunts with skill, butchering his kills with detachment but growing and growing efficiency. 

Teldryn sighs and folds up more hides to take to Morthal to sell. There was also the abundance of firewood to make arrows for all those the boy had used.

He needs to get the boy distracted by more hobbies perhaps... Teldryn had taken up enchanting as a young mer when his conscious still kept him awake at night after kills.

The dunmer hummed to himself as he stacked items on the table in the main hall of Milos' manner (no longer stacked with dust covered books). There was also dried meats they were running out of room to store, until the storage room could be finished. 

Elisdriel tip-toed from the cellar, sweat soaking through the cloth breeches he was wearing, his bronze skin bruised dark and ugly.

Teldryn only hummed darkly as the younger mer grabbed several bottles of mead from the table and ran up the stairs to his room. There was noisy shuffling as Elisdriel washed off and changed for bed, the sound of him getting in to bed.

The steward finished his preparation, ate his dinner and went to bed several hours later. 

****

Teldryn woke briefly in the middle of the night, awoken by a dropped bottle and thr creak of floorboards. He assumed the boy was stumbling drunkenly outside to relieve himself, and drifted back to sleep. 

*****

 

Elisdriel was missing and for one terrible moment, Teldryn was overwhelmed with fear that the young mer has gone off to kill himself, or worse yet, gone to kill Ulfric, ( he had needed to tackle the boy when news reached that the Jarl has returned to Windhelm uninjured only a few months after battling the dragon in Helgen).

After the third day, Sero was packing a sack so he could go search for the boy (or rather his still gone master who'd not sent any instructions in weeks with the gold to pay for the dunmer's employment).

And then Elis stumbled slowly through the entrance hall to stand at the end of the table where Teldryn's supplies were gathered. His large blue eyes vacant but wet with unshed tears. Blood had been smeared across the boy's sunken face, splattered across his bared chest which was covered in dirt and sweat.

In his clenched left hand, a dagger that the steward didn't recognize. The blade obviously made of bone, glowing with an enchantment. 

Then the younger male collapsed as if the bones had left his body. And he wept like a child, curled in a heap.

Teldryn ended up drugging him with skooma and mead until he fell asleep. He washed the boy, treated minor injuries with ease and realizing the blood that caked the boy was not his own.

Then Teldryn picked up the dagger, washed off the blood to study it while nursing a bottle of wine, and a slice of cheese, smoked beef, salmon rue, and herb butter and bread.

"It is dragon bone." Came a voice, surprising the drunk dunmer.

"Milos!?" He questioned, squinting in the ember light as the Argonian was hidden in the shadows of the entrance hall.

The purple scaled lizard was dressed in the strange robes and armored gloves he'd first worn decades ago when they'd first met, but the enchantments seemed newer, stronger. There was a staff across his back and an ebony dagger on his hip.

"I see you've taken good care of the place in my absence. I'm pleased." The mage chuckled as he grabbed the open bottle of wine, the 3rd the dunmer had opened tonight, and took a long drink straight from the bottle.

"Where have you been?" Teldryn demanded, slamming his fist on the table.

"Winterhold, freezing my gods damned tail off." Milos hissed dropping gracelessly in to the seat next to his servant, groaning as he rolled his ankles.

"Winterhold? At the College, no doubt, causing all kinds of trouble without me there to keep you from it!" Teldryn griped.

"I can assure that my intentions with these naive mages is noble. Just this once, mind you, my friend." Milos pulled the bowl of salmon eggs to him, and held it up to grab a bite, by flicking his long tongue directly in to the bowl between parts of his explaination. 

Teldryn pushed the plate of sliced beef over.

It was clear Milos had once again not eaten, for some time. It was hard to tell a starving Argonian by sight, but once they started eating, keep your fingers away from those sharp teeth.

"So I take it you left this dagger in the boy's room?" Teldryn asked, holding up the blade.

"Of course." Milos waved a dismissive claw. "As nice as your blade is, he needed one of his own, fitting of what he is."

"The Listener." Teldryn said.

Milos looked at him. Then burst in to laughter. "No. You idiot, Dovahkiin."

"He's… like you?" Teldryn shivered, looking at the slithering shadows beneath his employer's chair.

"No, that's a different thing… a curse." Milos said and gestured towards the hearth, firewood stacked itself on the embers, followed by a stream of flames from the Argonian's hand, beating back the shadows. "Which I can discuss with you later, after we deal with why I am truly here."

"Where Elisdriel vanished to." Sero said, and stood to grab more wine.

"The current leader of the Dark Brotherhood took him, had him kill someone, then forced him to watch as she killed two more."

"Divines…" Teldryn sighed and glanced up towards the boy's room.

"At first he refused, so she kept him chained to one side of the cabin, the victims blindfolded at the other side. She tortured them, made him watch." Milos explained quietly as he ate. 

"This woman seems twisted in a way I don't remember of the Brotherhood." Teldryn stated with disgust. 

"The brotherhood has strayed far from what they were when you were a part of them." The mage said with a shrug. "Without a Listener, these assassins are ruled by mere mortals and they are ruled by mortal vices."

"And its Elisdriel's destiny to change it?" 

"I don't know." Milos said quickly.

"Liar." Teldryn Sero replied, as was customary. 

*****

 

Elis stumbles down stairs at the scent of food and the insistent nagging of his stomach. His appetite making itself apparent for the first time in days.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs to see his patron, the unsettling purple Argonian called Milos An-Ra sat at the table picking purposefully at a spread of food Teldryn was bringing in front the kitchen, while writing a scroll and reading a book.

"You're here…" The teen said, and Milos poked himself with his quill.

"It appears that I am."

"Why? It's been months." Elisdriel slid in to the chair across from his patron.

"Besides the fact that this is my home?" Milos tilted his head, watching as Teldryn silently filled the younger mer's plate with food.

"Yes." He was answered, and it made him smile.

"Because I sensed you needed me." The Argonian answered.

Elisdriel had no idea what to do with that.

*****

"The woman's name is Astrid, and she isn't to be trusted." Milos stared suddenly, startling Elisdriel from the book he had been sent outside to study. He hadn't heard the lizard's footsteps, or even the rustle of bushes as he'd walked in to the little cove overlooking the Blue Palace.

"What woman?"

"The Brotherhood's current Matron, her name is Astrid, and she's not to be trusted." Milos folded himself on to the ground next to Elisdriel. 

"I wasn't planning on trusting any of them, with them being assassins and all." Elisdriel huffed, and snaps his book shut.

"You cannot act as an outsider to a group such as this, if you give no trust, than you shall gain none in return. And that is a deadly mistake." Milos sagely stated. 

"Tell me what to do." The younger Male snapped angrily. 

"I have no idea, this is a dangerous path." Milos chuckled.

"Then what are you doing here?" 

"I wanted to teach you some things I've learned recently, these few spells will help you while in the Brotherhood." Milos said.

"I have never learnt any magicka. My mother was a true Nord, she didn't have any talent for it." Elisdriel said setting his book on the stone next to him. 

"You'll be fine, dragons are magicka, so we all have a natural talent. If you train hard, you could master magicka." Milos said, creating a ball of ice in his hands, then slowly exhaling and letting the ice fade.

"Is that why you're going to the Mages' College?" The Bosmer asked

"No, little one." The purple scaled male shook his head and chuckled. "I have been a master of magicka since I was just a few years older than you are now." The Argonian looked out at the water, leaning back on his hands. "I'm searching for something, and the mages are a good place to start looking, plus they tend to have a level of anonymity that I need for now."

Elisdriel furrowed his brow. "I… I remember that high elf woman, she called you out by name." He looked over. "Why do the Thalmor know your name?"

"The Thalmor know my name because I told them my name." Milos said. "They needed someone to distract them, so they forget other people who are just as important to the war that's about to start."

"Against my uncle."

"No, he's a problem, but one that will be dealt with much sooner than you think. The real fight is against Alduin, the dragon who attack Helgen, who's raising dragons and his human priests from the dead to take over once again." Milos explained and looked at his ward. 

"Why is this happening?" Elisdriel asked. "What was done to anger the Gods so?"

"Who said they were angry?" The Argonian replied with humor.

 

*********

 

Elisdriel packed the saddlebags of the grey spotted mare Milos had gifted him, filling the saddle with the supplies his patron had gotten him for his journey to Farkreth, and for his first weeks within the Dark Brotherhood.

Weeks had flown by during which time he trained with Teldryn, while Milos taught him about magicka, alchemy, enchanting and surprisingly some tricks for pickpocketing. 

Still the seventeen year old felt woefully unprepared for the Dark Brotherhood. 

"Have you finished?"

The young man jumped, startled from his thoughts as Teldryn came in to the stable stall.

Elisdriel sighed, dropping his head against the mare to steady himself. 

"Milos has left already, he said he didn't want to say goodbye, that he will send you a letter soon." The dunmer said, leaning back against the stable and crossed his arms as he watched his charge finish packing the last few items in to the left saddlebag. 

"I'm surprised he stayed as long as he did."Elisdriel replied sliding his fingers over the reigns. "He seemed like he was forcing himself to stay these last few days to the point it was painful for him to stay?"

Teldryn makes a face like it was true. "Our Argonian patron has something that compels him to do things we cannot understand. I wouldn't doubt if staying here was painful, if something was calling him away."

"What is Milos An-Ra, exactly?" Elisdriel asked.

Red eyes met blue-amber and Teldryn stated truthfully: "Dangerous."

 

******

Elisdriel really shouldn't be surprised that there wasn't any great ceremony once he had spoke to the door.

Astrid was sitting at a crooked stone table, maps and papers spread out about. She threw a set of leather armor dyed black and red and drawled: "See how that fits."

His own studded armor is made from dark furs and ebony, and his hood is made from black leather, custom fit by Milos just for him.

"I have armor." He says, turning the suit and grimaces, the stitching is poorly replaced.

"I can see that. Put those on, that's an order. Everyone else is wearing theirs. Don't want to stick out do you?" Astrid tells him, and she sounds threatening.

Elisdriel puts on the armor.

Its awkwardly tight and doesn't feel like it would protect much of anything.

"Good boy." Astrid gestures down the stairs. "Go introduce yourself. The family just got back from jobs, they're all telling stories."

It was a clear dismissal, so Elisdriel huffed out a sigh and headed down the stone steps in to the main cavern. A small waterfall poured in to a shallow pool, where flowers and mushrooms grew in the poor light that filtered in from the cave roof. A blacksmith area was set up directly across from the water, where the forge burned and Elis was hit by its heat as he walked closer.

In the middle of the group of adults, (all dressed in similar black and red leather, though two people wore robes in the same colors), was a little girl with glowing red eyes.

"And would the sweetie like a sweetie?" The little girl mimics a man's voice, while trying not to giggle as a huge white haired Nord laughed, and an old Imperial chuckled. 

"Then what happened Babette?" Asked a woman who's obscured from view by her hood.

The girl, Babette, giggles. "I said 'oh yes, please, I'm so very hungry.'" She sounds innocent. "And he goes, 'Of course… what big teeth you- oh Gods, oh no please ahhhh-" Babette mimes lunging and snaps her teeth around air, twisting her head.

The huge Nord howls with laughter, nearly drowning out the others, but they're all laughing at the little girl's story. 

"I love your stories Babe," Says a Redguard man, dressed in the traditional garb of his homeland, though the colors are blood red and black.

"Yes, it truly never gets old." Hums the Imperial with a sage nod.

Elisdriel's stomach is a cold lump, and he feels sick listening. 

"We have a new comer." Calls a soothing, voice from the back of the crowd, male with a telling hiss that Elisdriel has come to recognize as Argonian. All their attention turns to him, and he tenses.

"Why hello, you must be Astrid's boy." The Redguard has a booming voice, and he steps around the others. "I am Nazir." He greets, and the others continue to examine him.

"I'm Elisdriel," He replied, hoping his voice is calm and strong.

"Welcome to the Dark Brotherhood!" Nazir gives a grand open gesture.

The large Nord male looks him up, then down, sniffs deeply then huffs, clearly dismissing him as easily as Astrid had with a murmured: "Welp," then turns towards the forge.

"Ignore them, come, come let me show you around." Nazir comes forward and wraps his arm around Elis' shoulders in a friendly gesture and pulls him towards the staircase the the left of a glowing stone wall, Elisdriel forces his attention away from it as Nazir begins to loudly point out the sleeping quarters while pulling him out of the main room without a chance to decline the tour.


End file.
